


Warmth

by BeyondTheClouds777



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Don't copy to another site, Fever, Fluff, Gen, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, No Angst Here Just Fluff and Snuggles, Queerplatonic Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Queerplatonic Relationships, Sick Hinata Shouyou, Sickfic, So much hurt/comfort, Soft Boys, TW: Emetophobia, Worried Kageyama Tobio, but he has kageyama so he'll be ok, hinata's not doing too well, it's not super graphic but there is vomiting, self-indulgent fluff and comfort and cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21842005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeyondTheClouds777/pseuds/BeyondTheClouds777
Summary: Shouyou was okay, hewas,but all that changed. Fever and tension high, Tobio looks after his very sick partner.
Relationships: Established Queerplatonic Relationship - Relationship, Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 11
Kudos: 247





	Warmth

Tobio has never seen Shouyou sick before.

Shouyou and Tobio have been living together for about a month now, splitting the rent in a small apartment in a small downtown neighborhood. They work separate jobs, play volleyball with the locals and are trying to figure out university, taking some classes here and there on the side in preparation for entrance exams and whatever else the colleges will throw at them. They’ve had plenty of ups and downs with each other, especially since officially becoming partners—in-court in high school, and now off the court as working adults. 

In hindsight, their relationship had always been there, though they hadn’t put actual thought into it until now. It’d been such a mutual part of them that living together just seemed… right. 

And, also in hindsight, it’s weird that he’s never seen Shouyou sick before considering how long they’ve known each other. There were  _ times  _ in high school where Shouyou had called out because of a head cold and Tobio or someone else on the team would bring him his homework, but he always bounced back within a day or two. And he’s been trying to be better with taking care of himself lately, too, trying to get a decent amount of sleep every night and making sure he eats and hydrates enough throughout the day. He’s still gotten head colds here and there but it’s never been a big deal. He barely has to take sick days. 

This time is different. 

Shouyou has been sick for the past several days now, and running a fever at that. It isn’t…  _ that  _ high? Or, Tobio doesn’t think it’s high enough for him to be panicking, but he’s still concerned. And Shouyou hasn’t been able to stomach anything, either, or stay on his feet for more than a few minutes at a time. The better part of the week has had him in bed, feverish and miserable and quiet. Shouyou is never quiet. That concerns him, too. 

Tobio goes to work the first day or two, because he expects Shouyou to be up and at ‘em by the time he gets home, but, no, he stays in bed. His fever doesn’t go down. And it’s by day three that Tobio finally calls in sick and stays home to take care of him. 

He’d like to say it gets better from there, but it didn’t. On the night of day four, Tobio’s concern finally turns into something more akin to panic. 

"You're dehydrated, I know you are," Tobio says, holding out a small glass of water. He keeps the room dim; the last thing he wants to do is disturb Shouyou’s headache. "You've gotta keep something in your system if you wanna get better."

Shouyou moans and shivers, drawing the blankets further around himself. Tobio’s stomach twists a little. “No,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “If I drink it now I'm just gonna throw it up.”

Tobio bites his lip. “You don't know that.”

“I do. Trust me.”

Tobio wants to argue, but if the past few days are anything to go by, he’s absolutely right. He settles the glass on the bedside table to try again later and sits down on the edge of the bed. 

“Do you need anything?” he asks. “Is there something I can get you, or…?” 

Shouyou shakes his head, but stops short. “It’s… it’s really hot…” 

“We’re trying to sweat your fever out,” Tobio says curtly, but not without sympathy, and he draws the blankets further around Shouyou’s trembling shoulders. “You just feel overheated because of your fever.” 

“I know,” Shouyou mumbles, curling in tighter on himself. “S-Still sucks, though.” 

Tobio sighs again. He really wishes he could do more, but knows by now that, when it comes to stuff like this, all he can really offer is comfort. 

“Alright,” Tobio says, shaking his head, “scoot over.”

Shouyou does, and Tobio slips underneath the blankets with him. It isn’t the first time they’ve shared a bed. It’s sort of become a nightly thing for the two of them. Shouyou wastes no time curling against Tobio's side, and Tobio lets him, wrapping his arms around Shouyou's shoulders even while Shouyou's uncomfortably warm forehead digs into his collar.

He sighs again, but it quickly turns into a hiss when his fingers brush the back of Shouyou's neck. "You're burning up..."

"Y’hands are j’s cold," Shouyou slurs, eyes closed. "Temperature's always messed up..."

"My hands aren’t cold," Tobio corrects sharply, settling his palm over Shouyou's temple. "Which means you’re  _ really  _ burning up."

Shouyou hums, unconcerned. "M'kay..."

Tobio runs his fingers through Shouyou's sweat-damp curls. "You know what I  _ should _ do?"

"... Dunno...?"

"I should take you to the ER. I should’ve taken you to the ER yesterday.” 

"No, this is fine," Shouyou murmurs, snuggling closer while Tobio strokes his hair. "I don't need a hospital."

"You do if you're dehydrated."

"M'not dehydrated."

"You’ve been sick for  _ days,  _ Shouyou." The words sink in for him, and he bites his lip. "I really should take you in. They could set up an IV, they could help you."

"M'fine. I'll get better on my own.”

“You  _ haven’t  _ been getting better on your own.” 

“I will. M'just tired right now."

Tobio sighs again, and he knows it won't be the last time. "If you still have a fever tomorrow," he opts,  _ "then  _ can I take you in? Just so they can check and make sure you're okay?"

Shouyou must pick up on the concern in his voice, because he nods. "M'kay," he agrees. "M'tired of being sick..."

"Yeah, me too," Tobio agrees, brushing Shouyou's hair off his burning forehead. "Sorry."

"S'okay… you're doing everything you can. Thank y’."

"You're welcome." Tobio smooths back his hair and shuts his eyes. "Try to get some sleep. We'll see how you feel tomorrow."

Shouyou nods, and moments later, he's sound asleep. After monitoring him for a little while longer, Tobio follows in suit.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They don’t even make it to morning. It’s barely an hour later that Shouyou is choking bile into the bedside trash can, and Tobio can’t take it any longer. 

“Okay.” He keeps his voice controlled, because stress makes Shouyou sicker and he  _ cannot  _ put him through anything else. “Okay, okay, Shou, we’re going to the ER.” 

Shouyou coughs into the trash can without protesting, which might be one of the most worrying things about this. Tobio gives him a tight, to-be-continued hug with a promise that he’ll be back and swings himself out of bed, making record time as he snatches up everything they need. He starts with the most important things, running to and fro, frantically skimming his mind for where he put his damn wallet and the house keys. He ends up with Shouyou’s set of keys and only sees it first because Shouyou has a cute little dog bobblehead attached to it. 

He stuffs everything into a backpack, along with enough t-shirts and sweatpants to last them a few days (just in case), and then he shoves his shoes on his feet and takes his haul back into the bedroom. Shouyou is where he left him, only now he’s hugging a pillow to his chest and his eyes are red and watery. Partially from exertion and partially from what Tobio can only imagine (but really doesn’t want to) is stress and fear and exhaustion. 

He sits by Shouyou’s side, careful not to rock the bed. “Hey, dumbass,” he whispers, gently tucking some of his sweaty hair behind his ear. “We need to get ready to go.”

“I don’t want to be sick in the hospital,” Shouyou croaks, squeezing the pillow tighter and burying his face into it. “I’m s-supposed to have work soon, I can’t be in the hospital, Tobio, I  _ can’t—” _

“They’re going to get you feeling better, Shou,” Tobio soothes, at a loss for what else to say. Shouyou has never been this sick before. He winds an arm around Shouyou’s shoulders and tugs him up against his side. Shouyou curls his knees in close and lets go of the pillow to cling to him instead, arms around his waist and blistering forehead digging into Tobio’s side. Tobio blanches (that fever is way too high, god, it’s  _ way  _ too high) and ignores the sick feeling in his stomach. “You’ve been sick for too long, I don’t know what to do anymore.” 

“Y-You’re doing a great job,” Shouyou whimpers, but curls impossibly closer anyway which basically tells Tobio all he needs to know about how Shouyou’s feeling right now. “You aren’t doing anything wr-wrong, Tobio…” 

“I know, I know. Shh.” Tobio strokes back his hair for a moment before settling his hand on his forehead. He’s  _ really  _ burning up… “I know, dumbass, I know. But I’ve reached the end of what I can do alone, okay? I need to get you to someone who can make you feel better.” 

Shouyou chokes on what sounds like a sob and buries his face in Tobio’s side. “Y-You’ll stay with me, right?” he rasps, voice pleading and scared. “U-Unless you don’t want to—” 

“Stupid.” Tobio flicks him on the temple.  _ “Someone  _ has to look after your dumb ass. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.” 

Shouyou relaxes a little, and Tobio untangles them and gets to his feet again, this time coming back with Shouyou's favorite hoodie. He helps Shouyou sit up and put it on, feeding overheated, sweaty limbs through the sleeves and trying not to dwell on just how limp he is, how Shouyou tries helping but is too weak to. Tobio straightens the collar, pulls the hood away from his face and gives Shouyou a tight but gentle hug afterwards. Shouyou sinks into it, and Tobio rubs his back when he sobs. 

He gets his own jacket on next and slings the backpack over his shoulder. After helping Shouyou with socks and shoes and tugging a face mask over his face, he clicks out the lights and they’re ready to go.

"I called us an Uber, they'll be here any second," Tobio informs, phone still in hand. He sinks down beside Shouyou and immediately threads his fingers through his hair. Shouyou trembles violently and leans into the touch. "Do you want me to carry you?"

Shouyou shakes his head and folds himself into Tobio's side again, grasping fistfuls of his jacket. "N-No, I can walk," he manages. "M-Maybe just… st-steady me, if I need it."

Tobio strokes his hair and nods. "Okay. Tell me if you change your mind."

Shouyou nods against him, around the same time Tobio's phone goes off. Tobio swipes it up and reads. 

"Our ride is here," he says, ignoring the anxious butterflies in the pit of his gut. Usually they'd take the train but getting Shouyou down to the station like this would be next to impossible. And he doesn't want Shouyou to be embarrassed by too much attention on the train, either. "C'mon, Shou, let's go.”

He takes Shouyou by the forearms and gently,  _ gently  _ hauls him to his feet. Shouyou staggers on unstable footing and Tobio catches him, curling an arm around his shoulders and pressing him close. 

“Easy,  _ easy, _ I have you, stupid. It’s okay.” 

"S-Sorry," Shouyou whimpers, trying and failing to straighten himself up. "Headrush. I-I’ll be okay in a second.”

Tobio swallows and bites the inside of his cheek. "It's okay. Let me help you, okay? I'm not going to let you fall."

Shouyou nods and they head out together, Tobio keeping him pressed into his side and Shouyou clutching at his jacket weakly. Shouyou seems so small like this. Tobio tries not to dwell on it. He can think about it after Shouyou’s gotten help.

The Uber driver is kind, though worried at Shouyou's state. Tobio explains what's going on in the briefest way he can and the driver nods, opening the door for Tobio before climbing back into the driver’s seat. Tobio tosses the backpack inside and takes Shouyou’s hand. Shouyou’s eyes are glassy, and he doesn’t look like he’s actually  _ seeing  _ much of anything. Tobio doesn’t trust his coordination. He squeezes his fingers.

“Do you think you can stand by yourself for one second?” Tobio asks, trying not to think about how warm and clammy Shouyou’s hand is. Shouyou nods, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, and Tobio tightens his grip on his hand again and climbs in the backseat first. He tosses the backpack onto the floor to free up the seat and holds his arms out to Shouyou. He gives his hand a gentle tug. “Careful, don’t hit your head.”

Shouyou practically falls into the vehicle with a strangled, startled yelp, but Tobio was ready for it, and he catches Shouyou with one arm curved around his shoulders and the other in the crook of his knees. 

_ “Careful, _ dumbass,” Tobio says, wrapping his arms around him and holding him steady. Nothing  _ happened,  _ but Shouyou is breathing hard enough to scare him again. He strokes the side of his face, ignoring the heat there. “I said I’m here to help if you need me, remember? Take it easy.”

Shouyou apologizes weakly, eyes glazed over and tear-filled and Tobio just, doesn’t have it in him to be upset. He gives him a brief but tight hug. After making sure his hands, arms, and feet are tucked safely in the seat beside him, he pulls the door shut, gets their seatbelts snapped and hollers to the driver that they’re ready to go. The driver speeds down the road and Tobio holds Shouyou close, letting him bury his face against his neck while he breathes hard. Tobio doesn’t think he’s ever seen or heard Shouyou breathe like this, not even after an intense volleyball game or after they raced until their lungs burned and their feet were blistered. 

It scares him. 

“It’s gonna be okay. You’re fine,” he whispers, half to Shouyou and half to himself. He runs his fingers through his hair, hoping the action is even just a little bit soothing. “It’s okay. I’m here.” 

Shouyou muffles a noise into his jacket, knees digging into Tobio’s side. Tobio presses his forehead into Shouyou’s damp hair. 

“I love you, too, it’ll be okay.” 

Their driver is pushing the speed limit, just a little. Tobio has it in his mind to thank him, give him a good rating. But it’s a thought so far in the back of his mind that it might not be attainable so long as Shouyou is in this state. 

The car pulls up in front of the ER, and Tobio thanks the driver if a bit haphazardly, taking Shouyou by the shoulder and shaking him. Shouyou murmurs incoherently. 

“We’re here, Shou, come on,” Tobio says, unbuckling their seatbelts. Shouyou won’t sit up straight. “We have to go, come on. They’ll be able to help you, I promise.” 

The driver opens the door for them, and Tobio decides  _ screw it  _ and pulls Shouyou into his arms, securing his hold before hauling them both out of the vehicle. Shouyou murmurs something Tobio can’t make out before he curls into his chest and clutches at his collar. Tobio hates how light he is. He’s never been this light before, he’s not  _ supposed  _ to be this light. It shouldn’t be this easy to carry him.

“Thank you,” Tobio says to the driver when he thinks about it. 

The driver nods. “Best of luck to the two of you.” 

Tobio nods, ducks his head in a short bow and speeds off toward the entrance. He hears but doesn’t acknowledge the departure of the car behind them. Shouyou’s skin is far beyond burning, hair sweaty and breath fogged against Tobio’s neck. He hopes it isn’t as bad as it seems. He doesn’t know what he’d do if it’s as bad as it seems. 

The automatic doors open for him and he sprints inside, immediately slammed by the scent of antiseptic and an atmosphere of fear and forced professionalism. Tobio wants to yell at someone to take Shouyou, to help him and to help him  _ now,  _ because he  _ needs help now,  _ but starting a riot isn’t going to help.

In his arms, Shouyou squirms weakly. “I c’n walk, Tobio…” 

Tobio doesn’t  _ want  _ to put him down, but he understands. There are already a lot of eyes on them, and Shouyou has never been one to like too much attention when they’re off the court. Tobio nods reluctantly and sets Shouyou on his feet. He’s unsteady, and when he tips into Tobio’s side, Tobio is ready to catch him.

“Take it easy,” he says, any trace of anger or annoyance completely gone. He doesn’t know when or even if it’ll ever be back. “Come on, let’s get signed in.” 

He moves on autopilot with Shouyou leaned against him, and they wait in line for the receptionist. There are two people in front of them; a mother holding her sobbing daughter, who’s holding an arm twisted beyond what it should be; and ahead of them is a man, limping horribly, with bloody bandages around his knee. Tobio keeps Shouyou’s gaze distracted elsewhere and is half tempted to cover his eyes for him. 

When it’s their turn, the receptionist is kind and helpful, but efficient and professional. Tobio explains the ups and downs of what’s been going on:  _ his fever never broke, it’s been down, but it keeps getting higher, he hasn’t been able to stomach anything the past few days, no, he doesn’t have any allergies that we know of, we haven’t been out of the country recently, yes, he’s otherwise healthy,  _ and they’re taken back by another nurse clad in blues and whites to take Shouyou’s vitals. 

The thermometer says 39.4. Tobio knows  _ that  _ isn’t good, but doesn’t panic this time because they’re in a hospital and there are doctors who can help him. He sits beside Shouyou on the bench and lets him lean into his shoulder while the tests are run and Shouyou pliantly sits and lets it happen. Blood pressure, pulse, height, weight. Tobio wishes they would  _ get on with it  _ because he doesn’t see how knowing how tall Shouyou is will help them make him better. 

“Is this correct?” 

The nurse shows Tobio a bracelet:  _ Hinata Shouyou,  _ followed by a combination of numbers and terms he doesn’t understand. But he nods, because that’s Shouyou’s name and it’s spelled correctly, and the nurse secures the bracelet around Shouyou’s sweaty wrist. His hand falls into his lap as soon as the nurse lets go. Tobio grasps his fingers, and Shouyou squeezes back weakly.

“We’ll have you sit up front for a bit,” the nurse says sternly, typing things into a computer. She’s not nearly as kind as the receptionist, seems a bit fed up with her job, and Tobio’s on edge enough to snap at her but doesn’t because it’s one in the morning and he can’t put Shouyou through any more stress. “It won’t be long before we call you back. Here.” 

She reaches around and hands him a plastic container, and he hopes to whatever gods are listening that Shouyou doesn’t feel sick enough to need it. He nods and decides not to thank her because with Shouyou as sick as he is, he  _ does not  _ appreciate her attitude. 

He helps Shouyou up and back into the main part of the ER, with Shouyou more dead-weight than ever before. There aren’t many people here, which he guesses fits the ungodly hour, so it’s easy to find a small, out of the way bench where they can sit and Shouyou can have some quiet.

“Here,” Tobio says, taking Shouyou by the forearms and guiding him down onto the bench. He doesn’t let go until he knows Shouyou won’t topple over. “We good?” 

Shouyou nods with a small hum that sounds more pained than anything; Tobio drops into the space beside him; and Shouyou wastes no time tipping to rest his upper body in Tobio’s lap. Tobio pets his hair, leaving the plastic bin on the floor and settling an arm around Shouyou’s stomach, gently stroking his side. Shouyou’s hoodie is sweat-damp in places now, and every bit of exposed skin is hot to the touch and a combination of pasty white and sickly flushed.

Tobio swipes his thumb back and forth across Shouyou’s hairline, gentle. “You holding up okay?” 

“Th-Think so,” Shouyou murmurs, though he pulls his knees up against himself. “Wanna sleep.” 

“You can sleep,” Tobio says. “It might help you feel a little better.” 

Shouyou shakes his head. “Don’t wanna sleep here.” 

Tobio smiles a smile that he only ever gives to Shouyou, only it’s softer than it’s ever been before and in the end, he just feels sad. He keeps carding his fingers through his hair. “Just close your eyes, then. I’ll hold you.”

Shouyou breathes a shaky thank you and Tobio leans over him in what he can only call an awkward-hug-situation, where he can’t  _ properly  _ hug Shouyou but he still wants Shouyou to know that he’s there and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Shouyou squeezes Tobio’s knee, and Tobio catches his hand and squeezes back. 

Every time a nurse comes in to call on someone, Tobio is ready to haul up and carry Shouyou after them, but they don’t call Shouyou’s name. Several others are called back; the woman and her daughter with the broken arm, the man with the bleeding knee,  _ another  _ man with a bleeding, crooked ankle who came in after Tobio and Shouyou, and even this one bizarre case where someone came in so angry that he almost attacked the receptionist and had to be physically restrained by security.

Tobio kept his hand over Shouyou’s ear during that, glad they were out of the way enough to not be in the line of fire. He really, really doesn’t want to be here, and more than ever wants to take Shouyou home and let him get better there. He curses his helplessness and almost damn wishes he’d become a doctor himself, if just so he could make sure Shouyou was okay a hundred percent of the time and never have to come to places like this. 

Someone else comes in and is immediately taken back by the doctors. Shouyou’s chills become so violent and scary that Tobio gives up his own jacket and settles it over Shouyou like a blanket. Tobio  _ understands  _ that Shouyou isn’t  _ dying  _ and that there  _ are  _ people in this building worse off, but the protective partner in him wants them to prioritize him. Or at the  _ very least  _ tell Tobio how much longer it’ll be before they’re seen. 

Another person comes in and is immediately taken back by the doctors. Shouyou trembles and, every so often, lets out a small, dry sob. The first time it happened, Tobio thought he was gagging and scrambled for the bin—but no, Shouyou is just stressed and sick and anxious and exhausted and frustrated, enough to break down.

Tobio really, really wishes the doctors would hurry up, and the only reason why he doesn’t bounce his leg is because Shouyou is pillowed in his lap, finally still, and he will not mess this up. 

Except it’s right along that line of thought that Shouyou squirms unexpectedly and sits up, so quickly that he almost bonks his head into Tobio’s. 

“Whoa, hey, hey.” Tobio steadies him by the shoulder when he sways in his seat. He looks even worse than before, ashen in the face and eyes carrying a sort of haze like fogged glass. “What’s wrong?” 

“I—” Shouyou cuts himself off with something that  _ is  _ a gag this time, and Tobio makes the right call snatching up the bin and shoving it under his chin. He doesn’t necessarily throw up, because there’s nothing  _ there  _ left for him to bring up, but he does heave and choke for a while, and all Tobio can do is brace him through it. 

“It’s okay, Shou, shh. It’s okay,” Tobio whispers, rubbing his hand from Shouyou’s elbow to shoulder in gentle but consistent movements. “It’s okay, breathe. Try to breathe. It’s okay.” 

“Wh-Why does this keep happening?” Shouyou gasps, voice nothing more than a croaky shamble of what it should be. He sounds desperate, and his sobs aren’t dry anymore. “I-It  _ hurts,  _ wh-what’s wrong with me—?” 

The fit is over, so Tobio sets the bin on the floor and pulls Shouyou into his arms, tucking his head under his chin and cupping the back of his head. 

“Your body’s just under a lot of stress right now,” Tobio says. “It’s trying to make you better, it just doesn’t know what it’s doing. That’s why we’re here, Shou, so the doctors can help your body help you.” 

“Wh-Why’s’it taking so long?” Shouyou hasn’t asked the question yet, even though they’ve been here for a good long while. He’s been patient, trying so hard to be patient and not to complain but he’s at a breaking point, and he’s just. He’s  _ sick,  _ he’s  _ tired,  _ and Tobio really,  _ really  _ wishes he had a good answer. 

“I. I don’t know.”

Shouyou’s breath hitches. “T-Tobio—” 

“No,  _ no,  _ it’s okay,” Tobio asserts quickly, running his hand up and down Shouyou’s back through his hoodie. “Don’t panic, dumbass. Your body’s already freaking out on you, you don’t need to give it another reason to screw you over. Just… breathe.” 

Shouyou drags in a shuddering breath. 

The automatic doors open, a new patient comes in and is taken back immediately by doctors. Tobio wants to scream.

He loses track of time. It could be twenty minutes, it could be several hours. His phone clock says 2:36. It feels like they’ve been here forever. Shouyou is having a harder time getting and staying comfortable now, constantly twisting and squirming and asking Tobio when the doctors are going to see him. He spends most of his time with his upper body in Tobio’s lap, and Tobio spends all of his time coming up with new ways to try and ease some of the pain. 

It’s 3:24 when Tobio finally decides enough is enough. He’s just about to have Shouyou sit up when Shouyou beats him to it, shooting into an upright position much like last time. Only something is noticeably different. He looks like a deer in the headlights. A very tired, very delirious deer in the headlights. 

“What’s wrong?” Tobio steadies him again, hand on his shoulder. “You need to throw up again?” 

“I-I…” Shouyou swallows thickly, and it almost has Tobio reaching for the bin. “I don’t… I don’t think so? I just… I-I feel really bad, l-like…” 

Tobio studies him, gripping his shoulder. “Bad like how?” 

“I… I don’t know, I just—” 

His voice trails off, his eyes roll back in his head, and he pitches forward like a broken doll. 

_ “Shouyou—!”  _

Tobio’s knees slam into the tile floor and his arms take Shouyou’s limp, unmoving form. His heart pounds so hard that it taints the edges of his vision black. Shouyou’s head is a dead weight in his arm and his chest heaves with every gasped, panted breath. 

“Shou?” Tobio touches his face, brushing his hair away from his face once, twice, again. “Shou, can you hear me? Shou?” He pats his cheek. His skin is too warm, everything about Shouyou is too warm. And too still. “Shou,  _ Shou,  _ come on, stupid, come on—” 

Shouyou’s face is slack, eyes closed, cheeks a horrid, flushed shade of red. He doesn’t wake up. Something in Tobio’s heart snaps. 

_ “Someone help me!”  _ he shouts, numb to the sound of his own voice. “Help him,  _ please—!” _

Footsteps hail the arrival of doctors and nurses, everyone talking at once and touching Shouyou’s face and wrists and neck. Tobio clings to him, and only just holds back the urge to break down. 

“What’s wrong with him?” he asks, blubbering and hysterical. “Wh-Why won’t he wake up?” 

He isn’t answered. Everyone’s talking too fast and too much, using terms he’s never heard before and doesn’t care to listen to. Someone puts a hand on his shoulder and says they’re going to help Shouyou. Another team of nurses comes running toward them, wheeling a stretcher. 

Tobio holds Shouyou closer and whispers, “I-It’s going to be okay, okay? They’re going to help you, they’re gonna help you, I—” Shouyou’s face is slack, eyes closed, unresponsive, and his skin is an ashen pale gray that makes Tobio want to throw up. Tobio cradles him close, touching his face, smoothing back his hair. “I’m here, I’ll be here with you, it’s okay,  _ sh-shit,  _ please be okay,  _ please—”  _

He has to be physically dragged away from Shouyou while the doctors load him onto the stretcher and take off with him down the hall. A nurse beckons to him, a silent permission that Tobio doesn’t need because he’s following them one way or another, and he tears after the stretcher down long hallways and into one room after the next, test after test, with the feeling of Shouyou’s raging fever permanently seared into his skin. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Shouyou wakes up slowly, feeling marginally okay if just a little bit tipsy. He’d definitely take ‘a little tipsy’ over how he felt before. The only words he can use to describe how he felt before are agonized and scared. 

He’s thinking about Tobio before he realizes he can think again, and that horrible haze isn’t in the forefront of his mind anymore. He cracks his eyes open slowly, wincing at the harsh overhead lights and hoping he never has to see them again. The beeping machines and cool wires against his skin says it all. They’re still in the hospital. 

Or, at least, he is. He doesn’t know where Tobio is and he’s too scared of being disappointed to ask.

“Shou?” 

Except. 

Shouyou blinks up at a familiar silhouette, a welcoming shadow beneath the starkly white and too, too bright overheads. Shouyou wants to smile, but he’s too sore and too tired and he still feels too sick to muster the energy.

So instead he rasps out a weak,  _ “Tobio?”  _ and hopes Tobio understands. 

He does. Tobio  _ beams,  _ but his eyes are sad and there are tears on his cheeks. 

“Hey, h-hey.” Tobio’s voice trembles in a way it’d never trembled before, and his hand shakes equally hard when he touches Shouyou’s cheek and brushes his hair out of his face. “Hey, dumbass, hey. There you are.” He draws a shuddering breath, ducks his head for a long moment and squeezes Shouyou’s hand. “God, oh my  _ god,  _ Shou—” 

He hugs him, snaking his arms between Shouyou’s shoulders and the bed and burying his face into Shouyou’s neck. It happens so fast that Shouyou struggles to keep up with it, but Tobio’s weight, while heavy and breath-restrictive, is something he can be absolutely sure of. He brings his arms up weakly and wraps them around Tobio’s back, turning his face into Tobio’s hair. He breathes.

“Hey yourself,” Shouyou wheezes. 

Tobio responds by burrowing closer, and Shouyou shuts his eyes and lets himself focus on Tobio’s breath, his heartbeat, his warmth. It’s nice. 

Shouyou bonks the sides of their heads together gently. “I missed you.” 

Tobio chortles breathlessly. “I didn’t  _ leave,  _ dumbass.” 

“I know. But I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” 

“Me, too. I...” He inhales. “I’m glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t okay.” 

Shouyou hums softly. “But I am okay.” 

“Yeah.” Tobio doesn’t hesitate. He nods against Shouyou’s neck. “Yeah, you’re okay. You’re okay.” 

Shouyou runs a shaky hand through Tobio’s hair. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tobio asks the doctor if it was pneumonia (which, Shouyou said it wasn’t, but an anxious, sleep-deprived Tobio is an unreasonable Tobio) and the doctor assures him that, no, it wasn’t pneumonia, just a very bad, very tenacious flu virus.

Apparently Shouyou’s family has a history of low immune system and anemia, which could explain why the virus did such a number on him. The doctors are waiting for his fever to break and for him to build some strength back, and then he can go home. 

“How long do you think it’ll be?” Tobio asks, standing with the doctor while Shouyou dozes. “His fever’s gone down…” 

The doctor’s smile is kind and understanding. “I can’t imagine more than a week,” he says. “We do want to make sure we’ve given his immune system the pick-up it needs to be able to fight this off. But, you’re right, his fever isn’t concerning anymore, though we do want to keep an eye on it. He’s got a strong will, I’m sure you’ll be able to take him home in no time.” 

Tobio nods. He wants to take Shouyou home  _ now,  _ and get bundled up on the couch with tea and ramen and make fun of cheesy game shows until they fall asleep on each other.

And that will happen, just. Not as soon as Tobio wants it to happen. 

“Thank you,” he says, bowing low. Once he’s straightened out of it, he continues with, “I appreciate all you’re doing. And your honesty.” 

“Of course.” The doctor nods shortly, smiles one last time and leaves the two of them alone. Tobio draws a breath and returns to Shouyou’s bedside, sitting down beside him and stretching out his legs. 

Shouyou taps him on the knee. Tobio turns his head and smiles, reaching down to brush his hair away from his eyes. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, dumbass.” 

“You too,” Shouyou says, still tapping his knee. He peers up at him. “You look tired.” 

Tobio exhales sharply through his nose. “Well, duh. We’re both exhausted.” 

Shouyou hums and pauses, thinking. He continues to tap Tobio’s knee absentmindedly; it’s a little habit he picked up about a year ago, tapping Tobio’s arm or hand or knee or leg whenever they’re sitting together. It’s something Tobio is used to and familiar with now, so much so that feeling it brings on immense comfort and reassurance. 

“Do you know what would make me happy?” Shouyou asks. 

“What?” 

“If you went home and took a shower and a nap.” 

“You know what would make  _ me  _ happy?” Tobio catches his hand and squeezes it. “If you got better.” 

“I’m getting better,” Shouyou says, blinking up at him lazily. “You going home and taking care of yourself for a while isn’t going to change that.” 

“I know,” Tobio assures, “but—” He searches himself a moment, looking for something worth the argument. “I just… don’t like the thought of you being here by yourself.”

“Aww.” Shouyou scoots closer, resting his head on Tobio’s thigh. “You’re sweet. But, it just means I’ll be extra happy to see you when you get back. You’ll be able to get some proper sleep, too—don’t give me that look, I know you haven’t been sleeping. And you’ll be able to grab some more clean clothes. I know we’re running out of them.”

Tobio bites his lip, raking his fingers across Shouyou’s scalp gently. That visceral  _ something  _ in his chest, when Shouyou collapsed in the ER lobby… he’s never going to forget that feeling, much less when it’s so fresh in his mind.

“I don’t know…” 

“I’ll be okay here, Tobio,” Shouyou says, smiling this time. “When you get back we can watch dumb cooking shows and cuddle.” 

“We can watch dumb cooking shows and cuddle now.” 

“No, you smell bad. Go take a shower.” 

Tobio snorts. “Like you smell any better.” 

“I have an  _ excuse,  _ okay.” 

“Anything can be an excuse if you try hard enough.” 

Shouyou shoves him, and it takes Tobio aback, how weak it is. Either Shouyou really doesn’t mean it or he really doesn’t feel well. 

“Okay but seriously,” Shouyou says, “I’d really like it if you went home and took a shower, and it’s not because you smell bad. You’ve been here for a while, right? It won’t hurt you to just run home for a little while, get some sleep and take a shower. That sorta stuff.” 

Tobio swallows. “I just… I don’t know, Shou. I’m worried about you.” 

“I know, I know you are. But, Tobes, I’m worried about you, too. You’ve taken such good care of me, and I’m being taken care of here, too, so I want you to take care of yourself now.”

‘Selfless’ isn’t necessarily a word that describes Shouyou, but he does have a special heart for other people, especially the people he loves. Tobio is reluctant for obvious, understandable reasons, but Shouyou’s okay. Or at least he’s close to being okay. The doctors are here to help him if he needs someone, and it’s not like Tobio won’t be coming  _ back.  _ He probably won’t be gone for more than an hour. Maybe half an hour if he hussles. 

And, he’d be lying if he said a shower didn’t sound really nice right about now. 

Tobio heaves a sigh and, judging by that little glint in Shouyou’s eyes, he knows what that means. “Alright, I’m letting you win for once,” Tobio says. “But just this one time, got it? You have to earn every other victory.” 

Shouyou  _ cackles.  _ “Alright, alright, yeah.” 

Tobio rolls his eyes and Shouyou moves off him so he can stand up. Shouyou curls into the pillows and Tobio tucks the blankets up and around his shoulders. The somewhat rougher texture reminds him to grab a throw blanket from home; if Shouyou’s going to be stuck in the hospital for a while, he at least deserves to be comfortable. 

Tobio smooths the blanket over him. “You’re sure you’ll be okay here?” he asks, just in case.

“Positive,” Shouyou says, nodding. “I’m just gonna sleep, honestly. I won’t even know you’re gone.”

“Good, good.” Tobio presses his hand to his forehead. He’s still warm, but it’s nothing compared to what it used to be. “Alright. Sleep well, alright? I’ll try and be back before you wake up.” 

“Take your time,” Shouyou says, smiling gently. He’s already nodding off, eyelids heavy and stubborn, so Tobio squeezes his hand one more time before heading out. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tobio hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until he unlocks the door and steps into the apartment. The place is eerily quiet without Shouyou’s light and warmth, and he used to like the silence, but ever since meeting and knowing Shouyou, noise had become his normal in the best sense possible. Silence used to mean peace and tranquility, but now, silence means an absence. Silence means an emptiness. Silence means Tobio is alone and he would do  _ anything  _ to have Shouyou in his arms. 

He locks the door behind him and takes a long, cold shower. He hopes it’ll wake him up some, maybe give him a pick-me-up so he can leave and see Shouyou again, but he’d promised Shouyou that he would take a break. And while Tobio might not necessarily care about a break, he  _ does  _ care about Shouyou, and he did promise him. 

So Tobio takes a shower, gets dressed, changes out the bedding and flops facedown onto it, breathing deeply. His body must take it as a go-ahead to shut down, because even though his mind is telling him  _ ten minutes, ten minutes and then I’ll leave,  _ his body has already decided what it wants, and he sleeps soundly and deeply through every alarm he’d set. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Wow,” Shouyou says, beaming at him, “I didn’t think you’d actually listen to me.” 

“Wasn’t planning on it at first,” Tobio says, dropping the backpack off on the nearest seat as he crosses the room. “But you had a point. So.” 

“Of course I did!” Shouyou says, still smiling stupidly. He’s actually sitting up now, with pillows propped between his back and the headboard. “I’m glad, you look a lot more like yourself now.” 

“So do you,” Tobio says, sitting down beside him on the bed. Shouyou scoots over to give him more room and they sit parallel to each other, shoulders touching. Tobio tucks Shouyou’s hair behind his ear again. “I haven’t seen you smile in weeks.” 

“It’s been like, one week,” Shouyou says, still grinning. “You’re just a drama queen. Drama Queen of the Court.” 

Tobio snorts, knocking his head into Shouyou’s shoulder and leaving it there. “Dumbass.” 

“Jerk.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too. Softie.” Shouyou ruffles his hair. “Oh! You promised dumb cooking shows and cuddles.” 

“I did.” 

“Wanna?” 

“Definitely.”

It doesn’t take very long to get situated. Tobio covers them with a throw blanket he brought from home, and Shouyou wastes no time at all snuggling into his side, though still mindful of the IV and monitoring wires. Tobio isn’t sure the doctors especially  _ want  _ him sharing a bed with Shouyou, and they did bring him a stretcher which lies empty on the other side of the room, but they haven’t told him he  _ can’t,  _ and until they do (and maybe even after they do), he’ll be here. 

The cooking show is one of those competition types where all the competitors have a dramatic bake-off with lots of sabotaging, self-sufficiency and sobbing involved. It isn’t really something to watch as much as it something to have going on in the background. His main focus is really on Shouyou, whether it’s watching Shouyou cry with his favorite contestant after their tragic defeat, watching Shouyou laugh at failed attempts from his  _ least  _ favorite contestants, reminding him not to fist-bump so high that the IV stand rattles, or otherwise holding him close and stroking his head. Shouyou might not be entirely well yet, but he’s more like himself now.

Night falls soon after. The nurses come back and double-check Shouyou’s vitals, almost ignoring Tobio’s presence entirely. They don’t tell him to leave, though, or that he has to sleep on the cot. Maybe they’re scared of him, who knows. The nurses file out and in comes the doctor, who tells them that Shouyou’s recovery is going well enough for him to be discharged within the next couple of days, granted he doesn’t throw up anymore and his fever doesn’t rise. 

“We’re still monitoring everything,” the doctor says, “but we are hopeful.” That isn’t  _ all  _ he says, but it’s the most important thing Tobio latches onto. Hopeful. That’s good. And a few days is a lot shorter than an entire week, and that’s good too. 

The doctor leaves them to sleep, turning off the light on his way out upon their request. They go back to watching the cooking show, and Shouyou is so close to Tobio that he’s practically on top of him, curled against him as a warm, familiar weight, and Tobio is happy. He feels Shouyou’s forehead again, and he still  _ has  _ a fever, but he’s okay, now. As long as Shouyou is happy and okay, then Tobio is happy and okay, too. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sweltering agony wakes Shouyou in the middle of the night. His stomach is twisted, coiled like trapped vipers, and it feels  _ empty  _ but he still wants to throw up. The haze is back in the forefront of his mind. He isn’t aware of very many things, just that he  _ hurts,  _ it’s too hot,  _ stop, please stop,  _ and Tobio has him in his arms. 

Shouyou opens his eyes. It’s just as dark as it was when they were closed. Tobio’s chest rises and falls against him, steadying and sure and Shouyou tries focusing on it, he tries setting his mind on Tobio’s breath and his heartbeat and the feeling of his arms around him, and he tries to breathe, too, but he  _ can’t.  _ His throat is thick, stuck in a way that makes him wish he could cough but he can’t, he wants to  _ cry  _ but he can’t, and the only thing he seems able to do is  _ burn. _

__ The last thing he wants to do is wake Tobio up—Tobio’s been so worried about him, so tirelessly looking after him with abandon, leaving no regard left for his own health. He talks a good talk, plays a good game but Shouyou knows how anxious he’s been, how anxious he  _ is,  _ and how much stress all of this has caused. He can see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch, hear it in his breathing. Tobio is tired, he’s stressed, he’s anxious, he’s  _ exhausted  _ and Shouyou doesn't want to  _ add  _ to that. He doesn’t want to make it any worse than it already is. 

But he hasn’t felt this bad—he’s  _ never  _ felt this bad before, not once. Nothing’s ever hurt this much, nothing’s ever  _ scorched  _ this much, he feels like he’s trapped on the inside of a burning building with his chest and stomach pinned with rubble and he just—he just wants it to  _ stop—  _

“Tobio?” He hates the sound of his own voice, hates how loud it is and how pathetic and he hates that he keeps  _ putting Tobio through this  _ but he doesn’t know what else to  _ do.  _ “T-Tobio.” Carefully, half-hoping Tobio won’t wake up, he pokes him hard in the shoulder. His toes curl. “Tobio.” 

Tobio shifts and stirs, and Shouyou withdraws his hand and wishes he could curl up small enough and tight enough to never be seen again. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m up, what’s—” His hand on Shouyou’s head stills. A palm presses into his forehead. Shouyou sobs dryly.  _ “Shit.”  _

“I’m sorry,” Shouyou whimpers. Tobio is scrambling for something, clutching him against his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so  _ s-sorry—”  _

“Shit, shit,  _ shit—”  _ Tobio’s voice is frantic, and he jams the call nurse button four times, rapidly. “Don’t apologize, don’t— _ shit,  _ how did it get this bad?—It’s okay, Shou, it’s not your fault— _ god,  _ please, don’t apologize—” 

The way Tobio is clutching him isn’t reassuring, it’s desperate, like he’s out at sea and clinging to a liferaft. He’s never been good at handling emotional distress, nevermind Shouyou’s  _ and  _ his own. Shouyou wishes he could reassure him but he’s too busy trying to keep his own composure as best as he can. They were supposed to be going  _ home  _ the next couple of days, and  _ now— _

_ “Shit,  _ where the  _ hell  _ is the doctor—” 

“I’m sorry,” Shouyou sobs. Tobio stills. “I-I ruined—” 

“You ruined a whole damn lot of  _ nothing,”  _ Tobio hisses, holding him securely against his chest. Shouyou wants him to let go. He wants him to hold tighter. “Don’t you  _ dare  _ apologize, dumbass, don’t you  _ dare.”  _

Shouyou knows Tobio isn’t angry at him, just angry at the situation. But considering how much of ‘him’ is in the situation, it doesn’t make him feel any better. He chokes, and the tears finally spill forth and there’s no holding them back. Tobio runs his hand up and down his back, squeezing his shoulders, holding him close. Nothing helps. 

An unsuspecting nurse pokes her head in, and the white stripe of light from the cracked door is enough to blind him. Tobio shouts at her. She leaves without closing the door and Shouyou can hear her pounding, retreating footsteps, amplified like bombs.

A moment passes. Or maybe several moments do. 

The room explodes in a crescendo of noise, color, and an atmosphere crushing enough to still his breathing. The only thing that goes through his head is he hopes they don’t make Tobio leave. He isn’t—he isn’t  _ dying  _ or anything (right?) so they shouldn’t  _ have  _ to, he just—please, don’t make him go—

Too much is happening around him. There are hands on him, instruments on him, questions thrown at him that he can barely answer and immediately forgets what they were afterwards. Everything is just— _ haze,  _ it’s  _ nothing,  _ it’s noise and hurt and unfamiliar, unwanted touches and he just wants to go  _ home,  _ they were supposed to go  _ home— _

“Shou, you need to calm down, you’re breathing too hard,” Tobio says, voice quiet and scared. “They’re gonna have to sedate you if you don’t calm down, it’s okay—” 

Shouyou chokes a sob. “W-We were supposed to g-go—” 

“I  _ know.”  _ Tobio hugs him tight, pressing his forehead against the top of Shouyou’s. “Shit, _ damn it,  _ I  _ know, _ I know. But I need you to not think about that right now. Come on, dumbass, not thinking is what you do  _ best,  _ don’t go changing that  _ now.”  _

Shouyou gasps out a shaky, teary giggle, and it’s one of the most reassuring things Tobio has said all day. He’s  _ sure  _ the doctors are glaring at him for it but he  _ knows  _ Tobio, and he knows what he’s trying to do. And he appreciates it. 

Tobio’s hold becomes less desperate and more gentle, more like himself, more like how they are on casual days spent lazing about the house. When Tobio speaks, his voice is soft. Almost uncharacteristically soft. And Shouyou clings to every word.

“I know you’re disappointed, and scared, and I am too, but we’ll deal with this together, alright? Just like we always do. Nothing’s changed. Shhh. Breathe. It’s going to be okay.”

Shouyou still feels like he’s burning up, like there are coiled, knotted springs in his chest and stomach and his sight is still blurred with tears, but, he can breathe now. Just a little. Just a little more than he used to. Tobio’s hand runs up and down his back. The doctors and nurses around them fade out and Shouyou focuses on Tobio’s presence. It helps. 

“As long as we’re together?” Shouyou croaks, and hopes his voice is audible enough. 

It is. Tobio holds him close. “We’re invincible.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The episode can be narrowed down into Shouyou having an allergic reaction to the medication they put him on. Tobio just about bites the doctor’s head off. It’s nobody’s  _ fault;  _ Shouyou’s never had to be hospitalized like this before, he’s never had these medications before, there was no way to  _ know  _ before now and they luckily caught it before it got worse, but still. Tobio is very clearly upset and no amount of apologies make that better. 

Shouyou’s still too weak and out of it to keep him from chewing out the doctor, but Tobio still ends up apologizing (to both of them) when the adrenaline has worn off. Since it was just the medication and not a full-blown relapse, there’s still a chance of them going home on time granted nothing of this sort happens again (which, hopefully it won’t, because Tobio may in fact kill somebody).

_ “Idiots,  _ I can’t believe that happened.” 

“It’s not their fault, Tobio. You know that.” 

Tobio heaves a groan that says, yes, he absolutely  _ does  _ know that but is pissed enough to ignore it. He’s been noticeably upset ever since Shouyou regained coherency. Upset and overprotective. 

Which is understandable. Shouyou isn’t  _ nearly  _ as intimidating as Tobio, but he’d do the same thing, feel the same way. He doesn’t really want to think about Tobio ever being in a position like the one Shouyou was in so he abandons that train of thought almost as soon as he boards it. 

He listens to Tobio’s heartbeat instead, and Tobio rests his cheek on the top of his head. 

“You feeling any better?” 

“Little bit,” Shouyou says, and sighs. “I… I guess I’m still just kind of. Sad.” 

“Yeah.” Tobio nods. “Yeah, me too. I’m sorry I yelled at you before. I was just— _ god,  _ I don’t know what happened, I just—” 

“I get it, it’s okay,” Shouyou says, and proves his point by pressing in closer. He can still smell the shampoo Tobio washed his hair with yesterday (it was just  _ yesterday,  _ it feels like ages ago), and he finds comfort in its familiarity. “I’m not mad at you, and I knew you weren’t mad at me. We’re okay.” 

Tobio exhales longly and doesn’t say anything else, but Shouyou knows he understands. Shouyou absentmindedly taps Tobio’s forearm. 

“Do you wanna sleep?” he asks. 

Tobio exhales again, sharper this time. “Dumbass, I should be asking you that question.” 

“I beat you to it. Loser.” 

If he’d been feeling any better, Tobio definitely would have pushed him off the bed. “I wouldn’t say  _ no  _ to sleeping.” 

“Then you should. I’ll wake you up again if I need you.” 

“You sure?” Tobio’s voice is uncertain, but Shouyou can hear how tired he is. He nods. 

“I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” 

Tobio rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I’m worried about, dumbass.” 

“Then you can sleep without any trouble.” 

_ “Dumbass.”  _

“Seriously, I would feel better if you slept.” 

Tobio sighs, and it’s resigned enough for Shouyou to know that he took it to heart. “Alright, alright. I’ll sleep. Wake me up if I crush you on accident, okay?” 

“You won’t, but alright.” 

Tobio leans into the headboard and shuts his eyes, and just moments later his breathing evens out, and he’s asleep. Shouyou isn’t surprised one bit. He taps at Tobio’s forearm for a bit afterwards, thinking gentle, non-committal thoughts, and then before long he’s dropping off, too. 

The rest of the hospital stay is… fairly straightforward. Shouyou can’t convince Tobio to leave again (which, understandable, but infuriating all the same), and they spend most of their time watching crappy cooking competitions and romcoms and whatever else the TV has going that’s worth even making fun of. They find a baking channel—food without the competition—and the cakes absolutely  _ baffle  _ them. Neither of them really understand how baking works, much less stuff like cake and icing and frosting and layers and cream fillings. It’s mesmerizing. So that takes up another good chunk of their time. 

They run a  _ crap  _ ton of tests on Shouyou, though, especially the first couple of days. They want to make sure it was actually an allergic reaction to the medicine and not something else, which leads to a lot of tests that bring back Tobio’s anxiety and leads to Shouyou having little to no energy for the rest of the day. The tests aren’t strenuous, but they take time, and he’s been sick and exhausted and dizzy for so long now that it’s taking a toll on him to bounce back. 

Tobio’s presence is soothing, though.  _ Tobio  _ might not always be soothing in his speech and he’s abrasive, especially towards the doctor and nurses, but just his  _ being here  _ is enough to make Shouyou believe everything is going to be okay. He waits until Shouyou is sleeping before grabbing food down at the cafeteria and is always back before Shouyou wakes up. The situation still  _ sucks,  _ but it doesn’t suck as much as it would if Shouyou were alone in this place. 

He doesn’t know what he’d do if he were alone. 

Days pass. Shouyou gradually regains his strength. The night his fever breaks has Tobio celebrating, with a smile bigger than Shouyou has seen from him in a while. Shouyou doesn’t  _ feel  _ very celebratory, and he’s sweaty and gross and tired and the absence of the fever brought what felt like a whole new wave of tiredness, but it means they’re one step closer to home. Tobio holds him close that night, just like all other nights, and ignores every protest Shouyou has about his being disgusting.

“I’m gonna make you smell gross,” Shouyou complains, though he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t love Tobio’s arms around him, cradling him while his head spins and the world tips. And he’d be lying if he says he wants Tobio to let him go. “M’all nasty… n’ gross...”

“No, you’re getting better,” is Tobio’s argument, as he holds him securely and rocks them back and forth. “You’re  _ getting better,  _ Shou. I don’t know about you, but that’s the best news I’ve heard in months.”

Shouyou smiles weakly and headbutts Tobio’s chest. Tobio strokes his side and pets his damp hair.

Beneath the exertion and bone-deep tiredness, they’re happy. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The day they head home is a victorious one. Shouyou declines the nurse's wheelchair because he feels well enough to walk out on his own, and he must  _ look  _ like he feels well enough to walk on his own, too, because neither Tobio nor the nurse put up an argument. Shouyou definitely feels like his old self, and Tobio even said that he looks like his old self, which is even better. The morning they’re told he can be discharged, he’s bubbly and cheerful, thanking every nurse and doctor he comes across whether or not they helped him in particular. By the afternoon, Tobio and Shouyou have filed the discharge papers, and they’re clear to go. 

Tobio phones another Uber to come pick them up, and it just so happens to be the same Uber who took them here in the first place. The Uber is ecstatic and expresses how happy he is that they're alright and well, and once they’re in the backseat with seatbelts snapped, they’re homeward bound. 

They haven’t traveled for long when Shouyou catches Tobio staring at his visitor bracelet and leans over, hooking his chin on his shoulder. “Whatcha doin’?” 

Tobio keeps looking at his bracelet. “Wondering how hard it’d be to chew through this damn thing.” 

Shouyou laughs softly. “We’ll be home in five minutes, dummy,” he says, “you can wait for a pair of scissors.” He looks down at his own bracelet, too, with his name and case number (and now, the medication he had a reaction to. It has a funny name that he can’t pronounce). It’d be nice to have it off.

The Uber drops them off in front of their apartment, and Shouyou thanks him brightly, once again declines Tobio’s offer to help (“I’m fine, see!” he insists, and almost trips on his way out of the door. Tobio shrieks at him), and they thank the driver a final time before heading inside. 

“You’re like a dog waiting to go to the dog park,” Tobio says, sorting through his keyring. Shouyou rocks and bounces beside him. “You’re gonna overexert yourself, dumbass. Chill.” 

“Okay, I will,” Shouyou says, and promptly doesn’t. He feels a little dizzy and tired, which the doctors said was normal, but that doesn’t make him any less excited. They’re finally home.

Tobio swings the door inward and turns to him. “Your Majesty.” He bows mockingly, gesturing inside. 

Shouyou flops a curstie and bounds inwards. He doesn’t make it past the genkan before he has to stop and take it in. 

It’s just like it’s always been. Cheap couch, coffee table, busted TV set that barely works. The air is a bit stale because neither of them have  _ been here  _ in a little under a week, but Shouyou hardly pays that mind. They’re here now. It won’t be stale and quiet for much longer.

He hears Tobio follow behind him, pulling the door shut. Shouyou takes a long, deep breath. It smells like it always smelled, familiar and comforting and, well. Home. 

"Home sweet home," he says. 

Tobio nods, slinging the backpack onto one of the dining chairs. They’ll unpack it later. "Home sweet home,” he breathes, and Shouyou spins around to smile at him. Tobio smiles back. 

And that’s really the bulk of what Shouyou gets to do, because the next thing he knows he’s being guided by Tobio down the hall and into the bedroom, where he’s sat on the bed and told to stay. It happens so suddenly and so quickly that he forgets he doesn’t want to go to sleep until after Tobio is turning away. 

“Tobio, I told you, I’m fine,” Shouyou says, “you don’t have to worry about me. If I feel faint I’ll just lay down again.” 

Tobio is having none of it. “No, you won’t,” he says, tossing the blanket over him and tucking it around his shoulders. “You’ll push yourself until you wind up hospitalized again. Dumbass.” 

“I learned my lesson before!” Shouyou protests, sitting up again. “You look more dead on your feet than I do.  _ I’ll  _ heat up the soup and you can sleep for a bit.” 

_ “No.”  _

“Tobioooo.” 

“It literally takes five minutes.” 

_ “Exactly!  _ Which is why you shouldn’t have a problem with me doing it!” 

“Nope, sorry.” He takes Shouyou by the shoulder and urges him to lay down again, which Shouyou does, though reluctantly. “It won’t take long. Try and get some rest until then, alright?” 

Shouyou  _ sighs,  _ but words can only take him so far when it comes to Tobio. He doesn’t usually listen as far as his own well-being is concerned.  _ “Fine,”  _ he says. “Just hurry up.” 

Tobio bonks their foreheads together gently and leaves the door cracked on his way out. Shouyou stares up at the ceiling for a while. 

"Idiot," he murmurs. 

He waits exactly five minutes before swinging himself out of bed, bundling a blanket in his arms and pattering quietly down the hall and into the living room. He knows exactly what he's going to find. 

And, he's right. Tobio is on the couch with his head pillowed by his arms, fast asleep with his phone blinking on a downwards timer of 10 minutes. 

Shouyou smiles softly and rolls his eyes. "Dummy," he whispers, spreading the blanket over him and bending down until he can press their foreheads together. "Stupid dummy."

Tobio sleeps on. Shouyou terminates the alarm, leaves the phone silenced on the table and heads into the kitchen. He can make the soup in Tobio's stead. 

And, making the soup is the easy part. He swings himself through their kitchen, singing loudly to himself with the knowledge that it'd take a metal concert to wake Tobio now. He isn't the best at cooking but heating up the soup is easy enough (though he does bring it to a rolling boil by accident).

The harder part comes after the soup is finished, because he doesn't want it to get cold, but he also doesn't want to wake Tobio when he's sleeping like this. He hasn't slept this soundly probably since Shouyou first took ill. He needs it. 

So.

Shouyou ultimately decides to put a lid on the pot and leave it while Tobio rests. Worst comes to worst he'll have to reheat it. 

He's feeling marginally more lightheaded now, though, and sleeping is a lot more appealing than eating. He makes his way back into the living room, where Tobio is now curled on his side, and he wastes no time lying on the couch with him, draping an arm around his shoulders. Tobio immediately hugs him and yanks him close, so suddenly that it draws a yelp from Shouyou. 

But he smiles, and runs his fingers through Tobio's hair. 

"Stupid dummy," he repeats fondly. "What am I supposed to do with you, huh?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Tobio wakes up, it’s dark as all hell and they’re still on the couch. He doesn’t quite register the ‘they’re’ part of that for much longer. 

Shouyou is on top of him, curled into his chest with his knees digging into the back of the couch, fingers clutching fistfulls of Tobio’s t-shirt. There’s a blanket twisted and bunched in awkward places around them, uncomfortable and not doing its job, but Tobio finds he doesn’t care enough to do anything about it. His phone is on the coffee table. He reaches for it. All his alarms were silenced. 

He heaves a sigh, but a knowing sigh, not a frustrated one. “I was going to sleep after I made the soup.” 

“I made the soup,” Shouyou murmurs without hesitation. “And now we’re both sleeping. So. We both win.” 

“We didn’t  _ eat  _ anything.” 

“We can eat later. Midnight-snack style.” 

Tobio squints at the clock. “It  _ is  _ midnight.” 

“Two in the morning snack, then.” 

Tobio sighs again but he doesn’t have any objections to give on the matter, not really. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t comfortable this way. Comfortable even with the blanket twisted around and underneath him, with Shouyou’s weight on his chest, with Shouyou’s elbows and ankles digging into him. Just being home with Shouyou is all the comfort he needs. 

He breathes in a long breath. Shouyou still smells like hospital and antiseptic and—well, like someone who’s been sick in the hospital for a week, but there’s still some of Shouyou buried beneath all of it. His hoodie is clean and smells like their laundry detergent. And a shower or two later, the gross hospital stench will be gone. Things will be normal.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Shouyou murmurs, sounding close to sleep again. “I know these past two weeks have been really hard for you. Thank you.” 

“Of course.” Tobio holds his head to his chest and pets his hair again. “Thank  _ you  _ for holding on. You were so damn strong, you know? That was scary as all hell, but you did really, really good. Brave, stupid dumbass.  _ God,  _ I love you.” 

Shouyou laughs gently, and it’s one of the most wonderful sounds Tobio has ever heard. “I love you, too.” 

They’ve been saying that a lot to each other. It isn’t  _ usually  _ something they make a habit of, just because neither of them are good with words and it’s easier to share their affection with a look, or a smile, or a touch. But the verbal confirmation is a comfort, too. Like being wrapped in a warm blanket, handed a mug of hot cocoa and told everything is going to be okay. 

And they are okay. They sleep, they wake up around 2am and eat soup, they sleep again, they watch TV, they rest, they take it easy, and they’re okay. As long as they have each other, there’s nothing they can’t overcome.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you all enjoyed the fic!!!  
> you can hit me up on [tumblr](https://pocket-full-of-wonder.tumblr.com/) too if you'd like and leave prompts/requests of other things you'd like to see in this series! i'd love to hear from y'all <3 
> 
> thank you for reading!!!!


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